A Bad Dream
by VioTanequil
Summary: He is running through the gardens. He sees the lady, she raises her hands to him, waiting to catch him in her arms and whirl him around like the darling nephew that he is to her. So why? Why should it be a bad dream because she was alive in it?


He is running through the gardens.

Yes, this is how they looked before… Before all that. This is how they looked, with the wisterias and the roses and the perfect lawn. This is how it looked.

Then there is the gravel path, the perfect gravel path in the middle of a perfect lawn with perfect flowers growing on both sides.

And there is the bench, the perfect bench, exquisitely carved from wood and metal and the intricate designs are so eye catching and he really does remember all this.

He really, really does.

And he is still running through the gardens. And not from something, but to someone. He is running to the Lord and the Lady Phantomhive, and they are waiting for him with smiles and laughter, and they are sitting there just like they always do.

And when he jumps at them, they change. They change. He sees a lady in red and her butler in scarlet. He sees the lady, she raises her hands to him, waiting to catch him in her arms and whirl him around like the darling nephew that he is to her.

And then he lands in her arms, and she laughs, and he laughs, and the butler in scarlet behind them smiles, a wide, wide smile. And it is scary, because his teeth are sharper now, and his hair is red, and he is holding a chainsaw.

And he screams, he cries out to the lady in red, and she looks sadly at him, and then at the butler. She does not let him go.

He wants to scream when he feels the chainsaw go through her, and she is still holding him to her, and he wants to scream, he wants to scream because she is dying and she is still holding to him and there has to be something he can to do stop it. There has to be, there has to be.

And he feels so betrayed, he feels so betrayed because he does not understand this, he cannot understand this. He cannot and will not understand this, that much he knows. He feels so betrayed because she is a relative, and because he does not know, he does not know if she ever truly loved him, and that is what hurts, that is what hurts so bad.

If she never really did, then was everything a lie? Was it that everything there ever was was a fake and it was all not to be? So what? What should have happened? What would have happened? Who was he? Who was Ciel Phantomhive if he was not a member of the Phantomhives, if he was not loved?

He does not know. He cannot answer these questions. And he does not know why he asked them in the first place. He is Ciel Phantomhive, and he does not show hurt, he does not show emotion, and Ciel Phantomhive is strong, he hurts but no one will see it, and why? Why is it that this should matter to him? He does not know, he does not understand.

Emotions, emotions for petty reasons such as kinship, they have never mattered to him.

Have they?

He cannot scream anymore, he cannot scream. He wants to scream, but he cannot. He does not even know why. He cannot even say a word. He is clutched to her breast, and he watches with horror-filled blue eyes as she falls to the floor, bringing him with her.

And he watches, he watches as the butler in red rolls his eyes and turns around to leave. He watches as she looks at him, at him with the blue eyes and the terror stirring in his heart, at him with those sad, sad eyes, those eyes begging for forgiveness.

And he does not know why she should be begging his forgiveness. He cannot understand it. He does not know why this is going on, does not know what is going on, only that she is bleeding, she is bleeding all over him, all over his clothes and all over his skin, and he can feel it.

He can feel the red, he can feel the smell of blood sticking to him, and it scares him. It scares him more than he has ever been scared. It scares him because there is nothing he can do about it. Nothing he can do, nothing he can say, except to sit there, in her arms, watching, watching as her life drains out of her.

And he does not know what to do, which scares him even more. He does not know what to do, he does not know what he would do if he could, does not know what he would say if her could speak, and that is what frightens him the most. Is there something he should do? Is there?

He does not know. He does not know so many things.

Why does he feel so hurt even when she made the first move?

Why does he feel such pain even when she is a murderer, a criminal, the scum of society?

Why does he feel such sadness at what is happening because and only because she is his relative?

He does not know. He really does not know.

But then she wakes, and she hugs him, and she murmurs words of apology, and he knows that something is wrong, and what scares him is that he does not know why it is wrong. It should be wrong, but it feels so right, and he feels so guilty. Why does he feel so guilty? What is there to be guilty about? He does not know. He does not know, and it scares him.

It really, really does.

And then he wakes. He wakes from the dream.

It was a fact that she murdered.

It was a fact that she died.

But it was a dream because she came back alive in it.

By all rights, he should have been happy that she had come back, even in a dream.

So why?

Why should it be a bad dream because she was alive?

Why should it be a bad dream to him?

Why?


End file.
